A Way to Start
by Hearoh
Summary: Modern AU. Arthur Kirkland knew that flights were supposed to be uneventful; they were simply supposed to bring you from one destination to the next. They weren't supposed to bring a charming, American photographer with too blue eyes by the name of Alfred F. Jones to make you second guess views on fate, acceptance, and love.


******Updated 3/14/12**: Thank you already for the reviews and follows! I've done another read through and caught the mistakes I can, but if I missed anything, feel free to say!

**Pairings**: America/England (Alfred F. Jones/Arthur Kirkland)

**AN**: Well, it's been awhile! I'm terribly sorry about that, a lot of things have been happening recently. College deadlines and such, they sadly don't leave much room for writing. But, while that was happening, I've been working on this AU series that I want to get finished in the very far future. Basically it's just a modern AU pertaining to all of my ships and how they met before or how they're meeting. I know it's not anything new, but my ships mean a lot to me and I'm really excited to turn the stories in my head to fics to share with fellow shippers. So except the whole cast! Ivan and China, Germany and Italy, and I've even got a story planned out for Turkey and Romania. But first, what better way then to start with the charming Alfred and intriguing Arthur? It will be rated M for later reasons, but that won't come till much, much later.

**Disclaimer**: I don't known Hetalia or any of the characters, they belong to Hidekaz Himaruya!

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No matter how many times he went through this, Arthur still hated to fly. It wasn't the heights, or the occasional turbulence, or the uncomfortable seats.

Or the lack of alcohol.

He actually didn't mind the ten plus hour flights from London to America, and vice versa; he could work on his papers from his laptop, read his latest book, or gaze out at the clouds and the distant land and vast sea beneath him. No, what he hated most were the people, who pushed and shoved. He hated the crammed airports, the long lines, the disgusting food from all the fast food places dotted around.

(Though not even the chance of a month long vacation paid vacation could pull it from Arthur that he absolutely did _not bloody enjoy _in the _slightest bit _a hamburger from the golden arches of both deliciousness and shame.)

He hated the security lines. He hated having to deal with the stupidity of man kind when someone couldn't follow the simple order of removing your shoes or emptying anything metal from your pockets. He'd nearly pull out his hair, shoving his face in his hands from screaming out in pure frustration or else he'd have to deal with security again at his lose of temper and streams of profanity.

Arthur grumbled angrily under his breath, reminded of his distaste and almost desperate need to find his seat in order to relax and escape when he was shouldered by a stranger rushing opposite of his destination. Though ruffled, Arthur bit back a shout and kept walking forward, green eyes softening- softening as much as they could since a glare would be present until safely seated on the plane to ward off the next person who dared to shoulder him again- when they gazed at the rich, dark sky out of tall windows, the night blanketing London. This was his favorite time to fly, lessening his hate; oddly, he ran into less people at night, despite the popularity of the flight course.

They weren't as loud. Or annoying. Arthur mused that the city could somehow affect those around, especially during the night; something about it made the atmosphere more tranquil and quiet. Adjusting the strap around his shoulder, Arthur looked away from the world outside of the airport and continued to walk forward, making his toward his boarding station.

He'd only gotten a few steps before a voice called out behind him.

"Hey! Wait a sec, I think you dropped this!"

Turning, Arthur watched as a young man jogged over, grinning and extending a hand toward him. Arthur blinked, immediately having two thoughts fire in his mind when the man reached him. One, that his American accent stood out sharp against his ears after a week in London, and the second being slightly thrown off at how clear and bright his eyes were behind thick, black glasses. The third, though refused to be acknowledged, was that he was very, very good looking. Then he registered what was in the blond's hand. His dark wallet stood out from the tanned skin, and Arthur's brows immediately furrowed when the lightness of his back pocket finally registered.

"Ah, thank you, I don't know how this could have happened…" He reached for his wallet and returned it back to his pocket, barely holding back a snarl when his eyes darted in the direction past the stranger. "Bloody idiot, it must have fell when he bumped me."

The stranger tilted his head and looked behind him, oblivious to what Arthur was grumbling about. "Yeah, sure, maybe. Anyway, glad I noticed it was on the ground before it was too late."

Muttering one last curse, Arthur turned his attention back to the blond and tried his hardest to give a genuine smile. "Yes, thank you again, it would have been a hassle if you hadn't noticed."

The man only smiled wider, those bright blue eyes gazing around Arthur's face. At the look, Arthur felt his cheeks warm and promptly coughed into his hand, trying to hide the sudden flush. Where had that come from? "Well yes, thank you once again, but I have to be going."

The stranger's smile faltered and he blinked, as if remembering there surroundings. "Oh! Right, yeah, it was no problem!" Giving a last small smile and a nod, Arthur turned around and kept walking, trying to brush off the encounter and forget those too blue eyes.

A few scattered people sat around the seating area as he neared, choosing to wait instead of making their way onto the plane like Arthur usually did, handing his ticket to the young man once he reached the podium.

"Enjoy your flight, sir." He spoke with a smile while handing back his ticket after the check, which Arthur tried to give in return but felt the result strained. All he wanted to do was get on the plane, sit down and get comfortable for the long flight back home. No more dealing with security lines, bad food, and strangers with the bluest eyes Arthur had ever seen. It wasn't long before he reached the entrance to the plane, a flight attendant giving him a smile that did not reach her eyes in greeting as he stepped onto the machine.

"Thank you for choosing us to fly, if you just show me your ticket I would be happy to point out your seat to you."

Arthur didn't bother to return the smile, only barely holding back his sigh as he held tight to his ticket. He didn't need any help with how many times he took these flights, and it was always ended up to be the same airline. "That won't be necessary, I can find it myself."

"Okay, if you need anything else just let me know. Enjoy your flight." The young attendant didn't miss a beat and Arthur rolled his eyes, making his way down the narrow aisles, occasionally looking from his ticket to the numbers on the chairs until he found his seat. He couldn't help but smirk triumphantly and glance over at the women; he could find his seat just fine without any help.

Tucking his ticket into his back pocket along with his runaway wallet, Arthur took a book from his messenger bag before stowing it in the compartment above, settling down in the window seat. Raising the small blind, he placed his chin in his palm and looked out at the light runways, letting his tense shoulders ease. But despite the safety of finally being in the plane, his brain still nagged at the thought of who would sit with him for this long flight.

Arthur wrinkled his nose as his mind went off. Hopefully it was someone who kept to themselves like he did. Oh God, what if he had to sit with a child. If he got even one sniff of body odor, Arthur swore he would make them leave this plane that instant and either find a new flight or find some deodorant. Getting deeper and deeper into the endless (horrible) possibilities, Arthur nearly jumped when his mind sharpened and the sudden noise of the remaining boarding passengers slowly filled the plane. Just how long had he been zoning out? Rubbing a hand over his tense face, Arthur sighed, unintentionally wondering if his seat mate would have bright eyes like the stranger from before.

Turning his head, Arthur was struck when he suddenly found himself gazing into those expressive eyes once more.

"It's wallet guy!"

The blond grinned wide, with that smile that already affected Arthur (and that thought made him very bloody angry), making him gape like some idiot while the young man multitasked between shoving his carry on in the space overhead and talking away.

"Who would have thought we'd be on the same plane, and the same flight? I guess we'll be sitting together, too! Since, you know, you don't look like you're getting up any time soon. Kinda weird, right? My name's Alfred. Alfred F. Jones. Didn't get a chance to introduce myself before since you were rushing off."

Two more thoughts fired immediately in his mind as Arthur listened. One, that this man had to be the most loud American he had ever met; with every word he seemed to be shouting. And two, he would be spending the whole flight with him. Oh shit oh bollocks he was going to be spending over ten hours with this chatty, charming America who was staring at him with a raised eyebrow oh hell he was staring-

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Arthur finally managed, Alfred letting out a laugh.

He did have a very unique laugh, one that seemed to fill the whole plane. "I asked what your name was!" Alfred gave him an expecting look, taking his seat and sitting down while a voice filtered through the plane, beginning to go over the procedures and safety tips in case of an emergency. Arthur didn't hear a damn thing.

"Oh." Arthur wanted to curse; he was an adult and he most certainly shouldn't be doing this deer in the headlights stunt. He dealt with people all the time. He needed to get himself together. "It's Arthur." His voice was curt, almost sharp, but when Alfred's smile fell in the smallest amount, he couldn't help but adding, "It's a pleasure to see you again," and offering his hand. He was a gentleman, after all.

Alfred brightened instantly once again, taking the offered hand in a strong yet comfortable grip. His hand was large, and a slightly dry and cracked around the knuckles, but surprisingly still soft. Arthur's hand felt cold when they released.

"Pretty cool that we're sitting together after that chance meeting, right?" Alfred peaked his head back into the aisle to glance up at the storage compartment, pleased with what he saw before getting to work on fastening his seat belt when the light blinked on.

"Yes, I suppose so," Arthur mumbled, voice forcefully passive, clicking on his seat belt as well before gazing out the window. The pilot was speaking now, describing the weather and the promise of a smooth flight, thanking the passengers for their choice of flight, going over their destination again and predicting the time of arrival. Damn if Arthur heard any bit, trying his hardest to avoid looking at the man next to him, almost feeling every time Alfred glanced at him from the corner of his eyes, past his glasses. It wasn't that he didn't like Alfred. The problem was the exact opposite. Arthur's eyebrows bunched together in annoyance at the thought. For some odd reason or another that Arthur had yet to figure out, he was both drawn and very much attracted to this American, Alfred. Despite how much his hunch told him that this American would eventually drive him crazy and contemplate jumping from the plane, Arthur hadn't felt this interested in someone else in a long time, and this suddenly after a simple meeting; the boy was insanely charming, and who wouldn't be attracted to someone with those looks and boyish personality. It's not that Alfred was out of his league (Arthur barely held back a snort at his own thought) because Arthur knew he could be equally as charming. More charming, even, and could make Alfred have these irritatingly, confusing thoughts about _him_.

He just wasn't exactly the luckiest in the romance department. Francis had no trouble pointing out that, even with Arthur's past relationships as prime examples of that fact, it was his personality that made every man all but run after the second date. Arthur wasn't a moron; he knew how other people tended to see him, and he always told himself it was for the better. He had his friends (Francis was not included on that list) and his work colleagues, and that was fine with him. It saved for all the inevitable hurt later when Arthur was left alone after harsh words with a very supportive bottle of rum.

Feeling his anger flare, Arthur let out a throaty grumble, letting out a short puff of air.

"Yeah, I know. Me too."

Arthur was startled from his thoughts at Alfred's sudden statement, turning to him in confusion. "Pardon? I don't know- What?" he repeated, eloquently.

Alfred, not catching his baffled tone, nodded to himself, wringing his hands together; it suddenly registered to Arthur that the blond looked incredibly nervous. "I get pretty nervous before take-off, too. Scares the shit out of me."

Arthur blinked- even looked around to see if he was really being the one addressed to- before staring at Alfred again. He only stared back. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, you made this noise in your throat and sighed, sorta', and had this tense look on your face," Alfred waved a hand over his own face in some sort of emphasis, Arthur didn't know, "So I thought maybe you hate this part of flying like I do."

There were many ways Arthur could respond. He could laugh at Alfred's apparent stupidity, mock him, retort angrily about how idiotic he sounded. The choice to not say a thing, stand up, and march off this plane for another flight was not an option unacknowledged in Arthur's mind. However, as he still stared at the scared look in Alfred's too blue eyes, watching him take a nervous gulp, he scowled softly, without his usual grumpiness or malice. "Oh, no, no. I was deep in thought, I suppose, and made the noise without realizing it. I'm not afraid, but you'll be fine, Alfred."

The Brit was surprised when Alfred, who had been so chatty since the beginning, barely managed a nod when the plane started to gradually move forward toward the runway for take off. Giving Alfred one last look to see if he would speak, Arthur turned to stare back out the small window while he waited for take-off. The plane was steady growing speed as it made it's way down the runway, and Arthur casually looked out from the corner of his eye toward Alfred. He was almost startled at the state of him; face pale, jaw clenched, hands gripping the armrests for dear life. The seemingly confident America looked like he was going to pass out. When the actual take-off loomed closer, Alfred sucked in a sharp breath.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, shit oh sweet God fuck-"

"Alfred…" Arthur was at a loss for words. He normally would have laughed and poked fun of Arthur's apparent phobia of take-off and his immanent panic attack, but he felt himself bite his sharp tongue. It wasn't usual for him to have the urge to comfort others when it wasn't the people he normally worked with, but seeing Alfred in such a state had him gently, but hesitantly, placing his hand on the other man's shoulders. "Alfred, it's all fine, everything's okay."

Arthur nearly jumped when one of Alfred's hand suddenly shot forward and covered the Brit's hand, gripping it like it was an anchor keeping him from sinking. His blazing, blue eyes locked with his own green as he whispered, tensely, "I don't wanna die. I need to get home."

Arthur briefly wondered if he had a girlfriend waiting for him back in America. Cheeks pinking at the intimate gesture, he smiled softly. "You git, you won't die. Everything's going to be all right. It's just take-off, this is normal. You'll be home soon."

The plane jostled when it finally began lifting from the ground, causing Alfred to groan and squeeze his eyes shit tightly, holding on to Arthur's hand. Thinking over the last few minutes, Arthur's blush deepened, feeling the heat spread to his ears. What possessed him to act this way, especially to this complete stronger? Sighing, he kept speaking kindly, soothingly, as the plane continued to gain height.

The next ten hours were going to test Arthur. They were going to test everything he had; these ten hours were not going to come soon enough.

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**AN**: I really will make an effort to update soon and not leave anything hanging! Reviews and constructive criticism are very much appreciated- if you see any mistakes, please feel free to point them out, this was not read by a Beta.


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